


Definitely NOT What I Was Expecting

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Overprotective Stiles, Pregnant Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original prompt:  <br/><em>Can you please write a fic with a grumpy pregnant Derek who's hating that he can't run anymore so stiles like takes him on an adventure to do other hobbies like knittig an stuff and like tons of fluff and sheriff stilinski being awesome.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Definitely NOT What I Was Expecting

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.

“Good morning, Sunshine!  How’s my favorite-,” Stiles exuberant greeting cuts off when he sees Derek huddled around the toilet.  He rushes over and crouches next to his boyfriend, “Hey, you okay?”

Derek lifts his head from where it’s resting on the lip of the toilet seat and bares his teeth in a growl, “Fuck you."

“Um, sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but,” Stiles sighs and gestures to where Derek has only just stopped emptying the contents of his stomach, “ _that_ is _precisely_ what got you into this situation.”

Derek opens his mouth to argue and promptly heaves into the toilet once more.  He reaches up to pull the flush lever and whines, “I hate you.”

Stiles wipes at Derek’s sweaty brow and concedes the point, “I know you do, D.”  He tilts his head to get a better look at Derek’s face, “Think you can get up?”

Derek glares at him, “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.”

“I know that.“  Stiles clears his throat, “I just,” he smiles tentatively, “I don’t want you to spend all day squished between the toilet and tub.”

“Oh yeah, great!”  Derek snarls angrily, “Lets see how many other rooms I can make unlivable with the stench of vomit.”

Stiles takes a breath and blows it out slowly, “Honey, don’t say that.  Please?”  He gets up to run a washcloth under the tap, “I don’t like that you spend so much time in here.”

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t have knocked me up.  Ever think of that?”

Stiles wrings the excess water out of the small towel and lowers himself onto the floor beside his boyfriend of six years, “Derek, stop being so-“

“So _what_ , Stiles?  Hmm?  Let me guess.”  Derek squints at him and ponders, “Is it bitchy or maybe whiny?  Please tell me, Stiles, so that I can make an effort to assure _your_ happiness throughout this _glorious_ process!”

Stiles sits back and stares at Derek in shock.  He pushes himself to stand, “You know what?”  Stiles tosses the washcloth into Derek’s lap, “You want to feel sorry for yourself and take it out on me?  Fine, be that way, but don’t come running to me when you want me to rub your feet or your back, or when you want me to make a late-night butcher run.”  He rushes out the door and mutters under his breath, “You ungrateful little shit!”  Stiles is halfway through the bedroom when he hears the choked off little sob from behind him.  He’s back in the bathroom within seconds, “Oh god, Derek, I’m sorry.”

Derek is trying to muffle his sobs with the damp washcloth clutched between both hands.  He sucks in a shaky breath and blinks up at Stiles, speaking between choking sobs, “I-I’m s-s-sorry I-I y-yelled at y-you, a-and I-I’m s-sorry y-you h-hate m-m-me.”

Stiles wraps Derek up in his arms and assures him, “Oh, honey, I don’t hate you.”  He rubs a hand up and down Derek’s back, “I could never hate you.  You’re my whole life, boo.”

Derek sucks in ragged, hiccupping breaths, face tucking into Stiles’ shoulder.  “D-don’t c-call m-me th-that.”  He sniffs noisily, fingers rubbing at his eyes carefully, “You know I hate it.”

Stiles chuckles, “I know.”  He cards fingers through Derek’s hair and presses a kiss to his sweaty brow, “Your stomach feeling better?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“Think Blip will behave long enough for me to get some food into you?”

Derek shrugs.

“How about you let me try?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Stiles drops a hand over the swell of Derek’s baby bump, thumb rubbing gently over the skin there, “Come on.  I made you a batch of peppermint tea to help with your pukies, too.”  He smiles and wiggles his brows, “And if you manage to keep your food down, maybe we can work on the baby blanket that you’re knitting.”

Derek makes a face, “I swear to god, Stiles, if you make me, I’ll stab both knitting needles through your thigh.”

“O-kay, then.  No knitting for you.”  Stiles stands up, and steps back so that Derek can do the same.  He doesn’t move to help, but hovers nearby, just in case.

Derek does manage to keep his food down.  In fact, over the next few days, his morning sickness abates and he’s able to feel more like himself.  Derek’s still bored out of his mind and going more than a little stir crazy, now that he’s not allowed to take his daily run and training sessions.

Apparently he’s a ‘high risk pregnancy’ and as such, needs to keep to ‘low stress’ activities.

After about three weeks of being locked away in their apartment, Derek decides to make himself useful and walks the short distance to the Sheriff’s station.

The Sheriff looks up at his entrance, eyes widening slightly, “Derek!  What are you doing here?  Is something wrong?  Is Stiles-”

Derek holds a hand up and waves him off, “No!  Nothing’s wrong.  Stiles is fine.  At least, I think he is?  He’s at work.  I was home alone and just,” Derek presses his lips together and sighs.  Now that he’s here, he feels kind of stupid.

“You’re bored?”

Derek opens his mouth to argue, but nods instead, “Yeah.”  He leans on the counter and grimaces slightly, “I’m so freaking bored in that apartment.  Stiles won’t let me do anything because of the,” Derek waves a hand at his midsection, “and I know he’s doing it because he cares, but I just-“

The sheriff cups the side of Derek’s neck and smiles, “You needed to get out?”

“Yeah.”  Derek nods, “Exactly.  I just,” he looks up at the ceiling and sighs, “I need to let off some steam.”

Stiles’ father laughs softly and gestures Derek closer, “Come on.  I know just what to do to help with that.”

Two hours later, Derek has a huge smile on his face and he’s feeling considerably calmer.  Until Stiles walks in, that is.

“Oh.  My.  Sweet.  Ever-loving.”  Stiles turns to look at his father in shock and scolds, “Dad!  How could you?"

The sheriff lifts the ear protection off his head and turns to look at his son, “What?  It’s harmless.  He needed to work off some steam and this seemed like a good idea.”

Derek’s smile has waned and he lowers his gun, carefully setting it on the counter in front of him.  He’s pulling his own set of earmuffs down around his neck, “Stiles I’m fine.”

Stiles lifts a hand to silence him and glares at his father, “You brought my pregnant werewolf boyfriend to the _shooting range_?!  He can’t do anything strenuous and you thought _this_ was a good idea?!  What the hell, dad?  Are you _trying_ to put your grand-spawn in danger?!”  Stiles rubs both hands over his face and scoffs, “I swear you two were put on this Earth to drive me into the nearest insane asylum.”

Derek looks at the sheriff and has to bite back a laugh when the older man says, “I’ll drive you to the nearest one.  I’ll even help you check in,  if you want.”

Stiles’ mouth drops open in shock, “Dad!”

“Don’t ‘dad’ me, young man.  You and your overprotective ways?”  The sheriff gestures with a hand, “You’re smothering him and it’s not right.  Derek deserves time away from home and if you won’t help him work off some of that pent up aggression, well then, he can come here and murder some paper targets.”

“I’m smothering you?”  Stiles turns to look at Derek and gasps when Derek nods jerkily.  “Why didn’t you _say_ anything?”

Derek chews his lip and admits, “Well, because, deep down I knew you were only doing it because you were afraid and I get that, I really do.  It’s just that sometimes?  Sometimes it’s a bit much and I feel like I’m trapped.”

Stiles tilts his head and presses his lips together, “I’m sorry.”

Derek nods, “I know you are.”

Stiles crosses the few feet separating them and cups Derek’s face, “Forgive me?:

“Yeah.”  Derek nods, a smile spreading across his face.

“Did you have fun shooting paper bad guys with my dad?”

Derek blushes and nods again, “Yeah.”

“Good.”  Stiles presses a brief kiss to Derek’s lips, “Better than knitting?”

“ _So_ much better,  you have no idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [tumblr](http://annabethlemorte.tumblr.com/). I promise I don't bite...much. *grins* 
> 
> Please be warned: Blog is NSFW.


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